London, chain-smoking, the Underground, curfew rain, lights out city, brick road Royalty just ashes away, stick with the six string strum and the language that speaks through amplifiers…
Burrough’s Lawrence, bottleneck daze, no love lost, and vintage hurt like nobody’s business, street fight glass and 3rd floor days…
Shaking the damp palms of cosmic devils, shallow be thy way, a Kingdom come undone, whirl-writing railroad scripture, Indian moccasin paths, Bavarian mazes, Germanic Altamont Almanac Radio panic attacks…   Dirt, breeze, petrol, oxygen, the purchased rolling sleep from street pills in University ghost towns and breakdowns with San Francisco a world away…   A rolling home of lights, sound and mixed signals and different time zones all trying to fall into one frequency…  There was the East calling, there was the past barking and tear harvesting and best was somewhere in between the immediate moment and times best not to remember…